


Heart Shaped Leaves

by momopeachchild



Series: Dragon Age Writings [12]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: A Bit Of Backstory, Minor Character Death, Non Canon Inquisitor backstory, Other, off screen character death, polyamorous couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 19:11:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7186613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momopeachchild/pseuds/momopeachchild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little Dalish poem sparks a conversation about Clan Traditions. Solas, being the curious elf he is, asks why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart Shaped Leaves

"Heart-shaped leaves with veins of green: Elfroot, to ease the pain."

"What was that, Inquisitor?"

Meren glanced at Solas, her brow creased in a frown. What was he asking her? She hadn't said anything had she?

"What did you say about Elfroot?"

Oh she had said it aloud, hadn't she? Well everyone looked curious, she might as well tell them. Pushing her hair out of her face, the Inquisitor looked down at her green stained finger nails and gave a little half smile. 

" _Heart-shaped leaves with veins of green: Elfroot, to ease the pain._  
 _Flat-capped and gray that grows in the clay: Blightcap, the hunter’s bane._  
 _Spindly with thorns like a great demon’s horns: Felandaris, marking the Veil._  
 _Loose-leafed and tall with a high purple stall: Deathroot, to make minds frail._

"It's what all the Keepers teach clan children. It helps them to identify what plant they're looking at, and whether it's safe to pick. At least when it comes to my clan, children who are not old enough to have a full apprenticeship with one of the Clan's craftsmen or to join the hunters are not allowed to pick anything, but elfroot. Some times the little ones don't clean their hands properly, and the last thing we need is for them to pick Blightcap or Deathroot and then stick their fingers in their mouths."

It was a sound explanation to her mind, or at least it seemed like it. But Solas looked a bit confused, and the warriors looked a little uncomfortable. She tilted her head in confusion, and Blackwall cleared his throat. "You have children out picking herbs?"

"We don't force them. Most of the children don't want to leave their mothers' sides, or they want to be grown up, so they come along. It is safer to just bring them along when we go herb gathering, where we can watch them and set boundaries, rather than have them sneak behind us, get lost and run into a bear, or worse a Shem."

Oh that sounded a touch sharp. She'd have to remember to not use the term Shem as much. Though in her mind Shem and Humans were separate beings. Her friends and all those who served the Inquisition were humans. Everyone who just went about their lives were humans. Those who went about hurting people, specifically the People or City Elves were Shem. So were slavers and marauders who just attacked clans because they could. There was a very good reason Meren was so skilled in her combat magic, when she had shown so much promise as a healer.

At least that seemed to pacify them, though Solas kept staring at her. Holding her chin level, she refused to feel any shame for her or her people's practices and beliefs. If he wished to speak to her, they could do so when they started moving again. Meren finished her gathering quickly and they moved on, the Elven apostate slowing his pace to match hers, and she waited with a passive face, knowing he was going to ask her about clan, or perhaps inquire why they believe what they do.

"That is very sound reasoning. But I have to wonder if there is not another reason?"

"When I was young, before my magic presented, my clan was raided by slavers. The hunters were out, and the children had been left to be watched by the elders of our clan. They taught us simple tasks like cooking, mending cloth for clothes and sails, and entertained us with stories. Our Keeper was away at the time, helping to gather herbs. The slavers don't take the old. They just kill them." She cleared her throat and looked up at the trees and the rain, glad for once the Storm Coast never seemed to have dry skies. It made this easier.

"We were all scared. When we reached their camp, I saw my father lying on the ground. He was bleeding, his eyes were closed. I heard my mother's screams. They had been out gathering Herbs. My mother was as skilled as our Keeper with making poultices. My father had been injured by a bear the year before I was born. He could no longer hunt, his left arm was near useless for anything, but the most basic of tasks. But he could carry her basket, and he could still just a short sword well enough one handed should they run into any wolves.

"They put the children near enough to him I was able to get over to him. I was begging him to wake up. I tried to stop the bleeding. He came to long enough to tell me to run when I could, for all of us. And to tell my mother he was sorry he hadn't protected her. He died telling me he loved me. I was barely eight summers, but my magic awoke then. I could feel the anger inside me, the fear, and..I did something no Dalish child is suppose to. I prayed silently to Fen'Harel to give me the cunning and strength necessary to save everyone. Even if it meant I had to die."

"Clearly you did not, and you are still here."

"My mother's screams stopped, I knew she too was dead. They were eyeing some of us girls, and..I felt fire. I looked at them, all standing so perfectly close. After all if we run, we wouldn't get far. I don't know if it was a spirit or a demon who whispered in my ear. Next thing I knew the slavers were all covered in flames and running amok. I told the others to run back, and once they were all out of sight I raised more flames. My Keeper found me in a pile of ash, crying. I had burns on my hands and my legs, but I would not die. For the longest time I wished I had. I know now the Creators had another plan for me. My keeper became like a mother to me, but my heart still aches for my parents. Knowing they'll never meet Bull or Blackwall. Knowing I'll never know if they would ..be happy with my choices." She sighed, looking down just slightly as they walked. Solas gently touched her arm, and gave it a supportive squeeze.

"I believe, da'len, they would be happy with anything that makes you happy. I know you have not seen the most supportive of parents, but from the way you speak, they would be proud of you."

"Thank you, Solas."

"Now I should return you to your vhenans." Looking up to see both of her warrior lovers watching them, the skies clearing briefly allowing the sun to shine down on them. Meren had to smile. Yes, her parents would approve, wouldn't they? She found a love that was as strong as theirs. And she was happy.


End file.
